


They were the worst soulmates ever. Of all time.

by awfuldaycupcake



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Chuckington, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Soulmate AU, These three are deffo my ot3 and i am Living
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuldaycupcake/pseuds/awfuldaycupcake
Summary: In which Wash puts the "shit" in "relationshit."orIn a world where everyone is required to hide their unique soulmate marks, Wash was lucky enough to have his in plain sight. Entry for the "soulmates" category for blue team in RVB Bingo! Because suck it, reds.





	They were the worst soulmates ever. Of all time.

Soulmate marks were never something Wash really put that much thought into. Sure, there was one very obviously on his wrist, something he didn’t take that much pride in. He didn’t really care, either. But after society sort of rejected the idea of soulmates, before Wash was even born, it was custom to keep them hidden at all times. And for Wash, that meant long sleeves and long nights trying to figure out how to work makeup.

The first time anyone said anything about his mark, he was somewhere around fourteen. That was the first time he found himself sitting on Church’s floor, a box full of Carolina’s skin-toned products sitting in between them.

“If you think _I_ understand how to do this, you’ve come to the wrong person,” Church grumbled. “Just because I have a sister doesn’t mean I know how this works. Don’t you have a sister, anyways?” He had his arms crossed, and somewhat of a scowl danced across his face.

“Please, man? I didn’t really get that anything was wrong with it until my teacher said something. My _teacher,_ for crying out loud. Like, I’m sorry, is it really his job to be focusing on that?” Wash said. He was looking down at the concealer like it was some sort of dangerous explosive, just waiting to blow up and take him with it.

“Welcome to the world of dress code, dipshit,” Church said. His arms were crossed against his chest, and his socks were pulled up mid-calf. Those socks drove Wash crazy. Almost as crazy as the stupid soulmate marks. 

“Like, why aren’t they allowed to be shown anyways?” He muttered. He picked up a tube that read “BB Cream” in a large font on the front. He held it up to the light, confused.

“You know very well why. People wanted to have their own option of free choice who they got with, not to have it pushed on them by some gods or whatever. Just follow the rules, it’s not like it would kill you,” Church said. Wash sighed. He unscrewed the lid of the cream, pushing a little out onto his wrist.

“Do you just like, spread it around?” Wash questioned, moving the cream liquid around with his other hand.

“What are you asking me for?” Church said. “You should ask your sister. Or mine. No promises she’d answer, though.” Wash rubbed his skin, watching the color of his mark fade.

Washington’s soulmate mark was, unfortunately, a very dark color. It was something of a dark blue-green (teal?) ink, carved into a two-pronged key. It almost looked like a sword. It wasn’t going away.

“I think I’m going to have to ask someone else about this,” he grumbled. “This stuff doesn’t even cover up my freckles.”  He was holding his wrist away from Church, making so that he couldn't see it. Church was politely (for once,) diverting his vision.

“Why don’t you ask CT, maybe she’ll know,” Church suggested, leaning back against the nearest wall.

“Nah, Connie’s mark is right behind her ear. She keeps half her head shaved and everything just so people can see it. You know how Connie is,” Wash said.

“She’s your sister, Wash. Cut her some slack.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. He looked up at the analog clock on Church’s wall. “I should probably get going anyway. Dad’ll kill me if I’m home late.”

“Trust me Wash, your dad is lax. Mess with mine and he’d cut you, I promise,” Church said. “See you tomorrow, asshat.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, Church.” And he went home uneventfully. That’s how Wash’s life typically was- uneventful.

The second time he found himself in that position was three years later. But that’s beside the point.

Wash was sixteen now, and he had gotten the whole makeup thing down. Add a little pink for color correction, work in the concealer he bought at CVS specifically for covering up soulmate marks, blending with a blending brush. It helped that the weird boy who always wore pink t-shirts was willing to point out when his blending was flawed, even if he was a bit annoying. But sure. Wash was finally feeling the level of comfort required to go outside in tank tops and sleeveless shirts. About time, too, considering Summer was finally approaching.

He was wearing something of a gray and yellow tank-top, cargo shorts down to his knees. When he stepped outside and felt the breeze on his shoulders it was like he was an entirely new person.

The funny thing about soulmate marks was that they didn’t have to be in the same place as your soulmate’s. So long as you had that same pattern on your skin, the world knew that the two of you were destined to be. Or at least, it did before the people decided to start hiding them.

Little did Wash know how much that would be affecting him.

“Hey, asshole!” Someone called. Wash raised an eyebrow. Who-

Lavernius Tucker was sitting at the end of his driveway, riding some stupid teal and black bicycle that Wash knew he definitely stole. He had that same cocky grin on that he always did, and his thick dreadlocks were tumbling down his shoulders.

“You’re not wearing a helmet,” Wash pointed out, taking couple steps towards Tucker. The two of them weren’t really _friends,_ per se, but they had something figured out. Whatever it may be.

“And you’re not wearing a jacket! Whoa! I’ve never seen those shoulders! What is this, some parallel universe?” Tucker joked.

“Shut up. I just felt like enjoying the weather today, that is all,” Wash deadpanned. “Why are you even here, Tucker?”

“Just felt like stopping by. Besides, I got this sick ride here,” Tucker said, gesturing to the bicycle. “I traded some kid some Pokemon cards and my old bike for it. Sucker doesn’t even know he got robbed.”

“I figured,” Wash said.

“Hey though, we could head down to the park and shoot some hoops or something. I know you have a ball in your garage, I’ve borrowed it before.”

“You did what.”  
  
“Come on, Wash, let’s go! It’ll be fun,” Tucker said with a dramatic wink. Wash rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Fine. Let me get my bike, I’ll meet you there.”

It was about twenty minutes before the two of them made it to the park, Tucker and Wash’s bikes tossed to the side with Wash’s helmet. They were sitting on the bench by the basketball court, Wash idly passing the ball between his two hands. They were quiet before Tucker spoke up.

“Hey, man. I’ve been thinking.”

“You? Thinking? That’s new,” Wash said. Tucker sent him a disgruntled look.

“Shut up. Just… Nevermind. Forget I said anything,” Tucker muttered, standing up. “Let’s just shoot some ball, okay?”

Wash raised an eyebrow. “Are you… alright, Tucker?”

“Just shoot the fucking ball, Wash,” Tucker said. Wash stood up after him, following quietly. He contemplated letting Tucker win out of pity, but decided against it. Tucker wasn’t the kind of guy to like that.

With this detailed makeup and long shirt strategy, Wash was finally starting to feel like he wasn’t that much of an outcast. People didn’t look at him funny when they saw his arms, and no one would question why he was being “indecent” or whatever. He was just _Wash_. And sometimes, that was all he wanted to be known for.

A year later and he was back at Church’s house. This time, though, he wasn’t there to talk makeup. He was on a date.

This was a first for Washington. He didn’t do crushes, didn’t do feelings, really. He grew up with most of his friends female and never was attracted to any of them. He just didn’t question that and figured he would when he was older. Guys dated girls. That’s how things worked.

And then he took a moment to get to know Church- to _really_  get to know Church.

They guy wasn’t all too charming. Wasn’t all too handsome, either. But he had a jarring smile and light green eyes and was just funny enough to make Wash laugh. He was an asshole, but Wash figured that, well, so was he. And when the guy asked him to maybe grab a coffee sometime… Okay. _Maybe_ Wash wasn’t 100% sure it was a date. But after talking to Connie and Carolina for all of ten seconds, he was smart enough to figure out it was. And he’d already said yes. What could go wrong?

So many things could go wrong.

“What do I wear. I don’t know what to wear,” he said, his closet open and half of its contents spilled out on his bed. “Tucker, this is important.”

Tucker, however, was in the middle of laughing his ass off. “Dude, you sound like a chick from a nineties movie, oh my god,” he coughed out between chuckles. Wash, though, was not laughing.

“What if he doesn’t like me. What if this isn’t meant to be a date. I’m overthinking things, Tucker, I need your help.” There was genuine concern in Wash’s voice that didn’t go undetected, but Tucker simply didn’t care.

“Just wear a damn t-shirt with a flannel or something, you’ll look fine,” Tucker said. “I know your weird fear of showing your arms to strangers.”

“Lavernius, I could really do without your teasing right now,” Wash said.

“Ooh, pulling the first name card. Low blow. Guess this means you're serious, right?” Tucker said. He straightened up then, looking at Wash with his head cocked to the side. “Just be yourself, Wash. Whoever this nameless guy is, he’d have to be stupid not to love you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tucker,” Wash had stuttered out, but he did take a careful effort to pull out the t-shirt and gray flannel Tucker was talking about. He trusted his word.

So that's how he found himself on Churchs front porch, nervously tugging down his sleeves. “It will be alright,” he thought to himself. “He’ll see your mark and hate you and it will never be alright,” he also thought to himself. Wash needed to put some serious consideration into just stopping thinking altogether, at this point.

Unfortunately for him, it wasn't Church who opened the door. In front of him was a huge, hulking man with graying hair and glasses, staring down at him intimidatingly.

“Uh, hello sir, may I please see Leonard?” He asked, twiddling his fingers anxiously.

“You're speaking to him,” the man said, narrowing his eyes at Wash. Uh-oh. This was a test.

“Hey, dad, it’s fine, lay off the guy.” Wash felt his shoulders relax. Test avoided. That was definitely Church’s voice. “He’s sweet.”

“Is this something I could be concerned about?” His father said, turning from Wash to face Church. Wash heaved a sigh of relief.

“Nah dad, nothing to worry about. I'll be home by seven. See ya!” Church pushed himself in front of his dad’s huge form, a grin bubbling on his lips. He shut the door behind him, turning to smile at Wash. “So. The famous David Washington.”

“Well, I wouldn't say famous,” Wash said, but it was useless to deny the faint blush dusting his cheeks. Stupid pale skin, always giving away stupid feelings...

Church himself had also opted for casual attire, Wash noticed, and gave himself an opportunity to breathe. He also had on these really tall, really obnoxious light blue Nike socks, but hey. Church still looked kind of cute, in an endearing way.

“We’re headed to this one coffee shop I know, right on the corner of sixth street,” Church said. He didn't have keys in his hand, and had already started down the sidewalk. “I figured we could walk, if that was okay with you.”

“Of course, I love walking,” Wash said. The second he said it, though, he cringed a little internally. No shit he liked walking. Who the fuck doesn't enjoy general walking.

“Yeah, me too. Especially during Fall. The world’s prettier this time of year. I mean, humans are definitely killing our planet, but hey. Pretty leaves, amirite?” Church said. He was looking around, his head tilted to the sky. When Wash looked at him in this light, he had to admit he was kind of handsome. “I mean, humans are kind of asshats, but at least we invented coffee. We fuckin’ need coffee.”

Wash laughed at that. “Want me to be honest? I’ve never had coffee in my life.” Church stopped where he was walking, staring at Wash with his jaw hanging open.

“No way.”

“Way.”

“Well,” Church said, resuming walking, “I’m about to blow your mind.”

“This better be good,” Wash said with a smile. But before he knew it, he felt a hand brushing against his. He gave a quick glance at Church. The guy was looking anywhere but his eyes, pulling a face like he might start casually whistling. Wash smiled. He laced their fingers together. “What’s your favorite drink?” He said, going back to a comfortable topic.

Church chuckled nervously, looking down at his and Wash’s hands. “I-” He stopped though, his breath audibly hitching.

“What’s wrong?” Wash said. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s just… your wrist,” Church said. In taking Church’s hand Wash had exposed the bare skin on his wrist. He hadn’t covered it, thinking that the flannel would stay down. Church had his head cocked, staring at it. For the second time they stopped walking, standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

Wash felt himself go pale. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I’ll cover it up if you want me to, I wasn’t expecting it to show-”

“No, it’s fine, I just-” Church said. He let go of Wash’s hand. He paused a second, thinking, before crouching down on his knees. Wash raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“You okay there, buddy?”

“Yeah, yeah, just. Look,” Church said. Slowly, carefully, he pulled down one of those obnoxious Nike socks, revealing his pale skin underneath. There, on his left ankle, was a gray and yellow two-pronged key. Wash’s eyes widened.

“So,” Wash said, bewildered. This means we’re-”

“Right. Yeah,” Church said, the same tone in his voice.

“I… I think I should go now,” Wash said, taking a step back. “I really need to leave.”

“Wait, Wash, We could-” Church said, standing up. But Wash was already on his way back, walking quickly back to his car. He needed to go.

Church stood there, one sock down and mouth hanging open, watching Washington until he was gone.

Tucker couldn’t stop laughing when he heard the story.

“So wait. Wait. You’re telling me he had the same mark as you and you just _ran_? You fucking dork!” Tucker said. He was once again sitting against Wash’s bed, sprawled out on the floor.

“I didn’t know what to do and I panicked,” Wash said. He, alternatively, was face down in his pillows.

“What even was the guy’s name, anyway?” Tucker said, looking up at Wash.

“Doesn’t matter,” Wash said, his voice muffled.

“Was it Prince Charming? Because you’re definitely Cinderella,” Tucker said, erupting into another series of laughs.

“He was my soulmate. I know we’re not supposed to share those but I got scared and now I’ll never get that chance again,” Wash said, rolling over to face the ceiling. “Life has become meaningless.”

“Hey man, don’t give up so quick. I mean, you’ve still got me,” Tucker said, standing up from the floor. “Or I mean, most of the time. I’m gonna go get some pizza. Wanna come with?”

Wash moaned, but turned to face Tucker anyways. “Only if you’re paying.”

Flash forward another year and Washington was bedridden. Which like, was very uncomfortable. Wash was the type of person who never wanted to sleep, nevertheless stay in bed all day. He was recovering from surgery. It was nothing too serious- he’d had his wisdom teeth removed last week. He was allergic to the medicine or something, and it was causing him to feel like hell. So much that he’d been out of school for days, and boredom was going to be the death of him. He was sick of sitting there, and if he played another round of Halo he might explode. Wash was sitting up straight in bed, eyes wide, and-- heaven forbid-- actually missing being in school.

Thank god that at three o’clock that day, his bedroom door was slammed open.

“Wash! Wash, hey, I totally just got a date!” Tucker said. He shut the door behind him, a giant grin splitting his face.

“What?” Wash said. He words were still a little muted, his face swollen.

“No okay, so like, we were walking to class and you know how all the leaves are changing color, right? Well, I made some comment about it and he told me that-”

“Wait, wait. He?” Wash said. “You too?”

“What? Man, I don’t even fucking know. If someone’s hot, they’re hot, parts be damned,” Tucker said. Wash shrugged. He didn’t expect that from the guy, but sure. Not like Wash could judge. “Anyway. We’re going to this park down by sixth street on Friday. Wish me luck, friend.”

“Friend?” Wash said, his cheeks burning from speaking.

“Dude. It’s been years. If anything, you’re my _best_ friend. Figured you’d guess that by now,” Tucker said. “Figured you’d guess a lot of things by now.” Tucker’s eyes went down then, his smile falling from his face. “Anyway. I’ll see you soon, man.” He shut the door as he left. Washinton was left feeling very, very confused.

Tucker was back on Saturday, of course, there to report the news. Wash was still sitting in bed. His mouth was to a point where he could talk again, but he’d still get dizzy every time he stood. Even making his way to the bathroom was a struggle.

Tucker opened his bedroom door slower this time. He sat down in a chair by Wash’s bed. In all of this space, he hadn’t said a word. For Tucker, this was very bizarre.

“So?” Wash said, looking his friend (?) up and down. “How did it go?”

“Well. In fifteen minutes, he saw my mark, showed me his, started crying and we kissed. So it was an adventure,” Tucker said. Wash sat up a little more, raising an eyebrow. Tucker sounded very… tired. Washington was interested.

“So like, he had a little picnic basket with a red and white checkered cloth- something exactly like you’d see in a movie. And I have my mark on my neck, right? I was pulling my hair up and he got a view of it, I guess, and totally freaked out. So he showed my his. Makes sense, right? Well, it’s the same one,” Tucker said.

“Oh. Really?” Wash said. For some reson, the idea of Tucker seeing somebody, somebody who was his soulmate. It made Wash uncomfortable.

“But there’s more. So apparently the guy had already met someone with the same mark as his before, but it didn’t work out or whatever? And he asked me how that would work, how we’d both have the same ones. So I mean, I told him the other guy was probably dead and he started crying. Guess they went to the same school and he didn’t see the guy in over a week, I don’t know. Guess it all made sense. But you know how I get when people start crying, I don’t do emotions. So I just sort of… patted him on the back and stuff. He stopped and hugged me, and we ate some sandwiches. From there it was actually kind of good. We played some basketball. I think he let me beat him,” Tucker said. “And then we kissed. He was really good. Like, best kiss I’ve ever had. It was pretty good overall,” Tucker said.

“Then why do you seem so, like, sad about it?” Wash said. Tucker paused, looking up at him. “I mean, you’re moping around and pouting and stuff, but you’re telling me you went on this awesome date. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Yeah, I’m okay. I just figured my soulmate would be… someone else, you know?” Tucker was fiddling with his hands. He looked so small all of a sudden. “I don’t know. Hope you feel better soon, Wash. I’ll see you around.” Tucker stood to go.

“Tucker, wait,” Wash said. He paused then, looking back over to Wash. “Stay a while. We could put on a movie. I heard there’s a new comedy on HBO or something.” Tucker smiled at Wash, looking him up and down.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

About a week later and Wash could finally walk again. And with this ability, where did he go? To a park? On a hike? To school? No, of course not. He went to a damned coffeeshop.

He was sitting at this table that was too far off the ground with a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands. His back was to the door, and he was waiting for someone. Two someones, actually.

Tucker had decided that Wash needed to meet this mystery boy of his. Wash was a little reluctant, especially when the two of them had been out on like, two dates, but he figured he’d play the “scary dad friend” card if he needed to. Hell, it’s not like Tucker had a dad to do that. That left it Wash’s responsibility.

He took a sip of the coffee. As a person who’d never tried it before it was kind of weird, but. Wash smiled to himself. It was just coffee, black. He kind of liked it.

He heard someone ordering at the counter behind him and purposely didn’t turn to look. He wanted to appear stern and strict from this first impression. He was going to remain calm. He would be smooth.

“Wash, hey!” Tucker said, sliding into the seat across from him. Wash looked up to see his date.

With that he dropped his coffee, brown water spilling all over the table.

So much for smooth.

“W- David. You’re alive,” were the first words out of the guy’s mouth.

“What the- Church?” Wash asked. Tucker looked between the two of them, pausing.

“Right,” he said. “Well. I’m gonna go get some napkins. You guys talk.” He got up and left. Church stared quietly at Wash, eyes scrunched.

“How is this happening?” Church said. Wash shrugged, his eyebrows so high they were practically in his hairline.

“Why are you telling my best friend that you have the same mark as him? Why did you tell me that? Is this a trick you pull? Do you do this on all of your dates?” Washington asked.

“I- wh- No! I promise that’s the only mark I have!”

“The two-pronged key,” Wash finished for him.

“Right, on my ankle! And Tucker has the one on his neck and you have the one on your wrist and they’re the same damn thing!” Church said. “And it’s not like everybody secretly has the same mark, I’ve seen another guy’s before and his was like, a fucking donut or something! I don’t know!”

Right about then is when Tucker came back with the napkins. He looked between the two of them as he pressed them down into the table. “So. You guys know each other?”

“Tucker. Show me your mark,” Wash said.

“What?”

“Show me. Your mark.” Tucker looked nervously to Church, who nodded. Tucker shrugged, pulling his dreads into a high ponytail. There it was. A light blue mark, the same color of Church’s damn socks. Washington’s mouth dropped.

“I told you I wasn’t kidding,” Church said.

“Tucker. I-” Wash started, pulling up his sleeve. Tucker’s eyes widened immediately.

“Holy shit. I mean, just. Holy shit!” Tucker said. He pulled Wash into a hug then, right in the middle of the coffeeshop. He pulled away abruptly though, looking to Church. “Wait a second. So does this mean-”

“The three of us are soulmates?” Church finished, looking up at Wash. It was almost as if he wanted a conformation, proof he wasn’t crazy.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I guess so.”

It wasn’t too hard for him to believe. It was a little weird that he was soulmates with Tucker, but thinking back on it… no, it really wasn’t. And to finally have Church back, to make up for that mistake he made over a year ago. It all made sense.

“Wait,” Tucker started. “Does this mean I could get to kiss you-” he pointed to Church “and you-” to Wash “whenever I want? Like, is this a thing?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Wash said. He paused, though. “Maybe someday. I mean. Church, would that be okay with you?”

“Dude this is literally a dream come true,” Church laughed.

And it was, for the most part. The three of them bickered on and off, more than any normal couple. And sharing a bed got a little uncomfortable, once they were older. Explaining this whole thing to their parents was a little weird, too, especially with the world’s overall take on soulmates. But if Church was honest… If Wash was honest… If Tucker was honest…

They were happy.

Even if they were the worst soulmates ever. Of all time.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if Church is a tiny bit ooc, I originally had Carolina in that first scene and from there everything got a little wonky. I also wrote this in two days with minimal editing, so there's that. Anyway. Thanks for reading!


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